


Timefever

by alienevan



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Crowley vibes, Desperation, Eternal Sunshine vibes, F/M, Falling In Love, Femme!Ten - Freeform, Fluff, Genderqueer Doctor, Kinda a sad story, Smut, but it has kinda a happy ending also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienevan/pseuds/alienevan
Summary: For some reason Donna and The Doctor get trapped inside his mind and, well, he might have some dirty thoughts involving Donna in there, which puts them into some – to say the least – awkward situations.What's causing it? What has happened? The timey-wimey adventure into The Doctor's fantasies is quickly turning into a nightmare and this time it’s entirely up to Donna to figure out how to save them.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble, The Doctor/Donna Noble
Comments: 28
Kudos: 90





	1. Prologue

His hands are tracing the soft skin on her back, wandering up her spine, stopping to unhook her bra, sliding from her shoulder blades to seek her hair, tugging it hard, pulling her head back. She lets out a gasp and leans in for a kiss, grabbing his neck, guiding his mouth against hers and tracing her tongue against his lower lip. He groans and grips her harder against him.

He is sitting on the bed and Donna is on top of him on his lap. He lifts up his hands to her shoulders, beginning to slide down the bra from her when she suddenly jerks up. 

”You gotta be fucking KIDDING ME!” She roars, standing on the bed, furiously glancing at him. _Standing._

He looks at her with wide eyes. ”Err, what?”

”Oh no, not again, _not again, don’t tell me I’m stuck with you again!”_

He gets up quickly from the bed and stands up, panicking. ”Donna, I’m sorry, please can you tell me what I did wrong?”

She’s still standing on the bed, studying herself. ”By the name of –” She stares at him angrily. ”What is this thing you are having me wear? A lacy push-up bra? Stockings? A THONG! What is wrong with you, you sick bastard!” She reaches on her back and tries to hook her bra up.

He looks up and down her body. ”I’m, uh, Donna, I thought you liked it, I’m, I’m –”

”Oh shut up and help me with this.”

”Will you please come down from the bed?”

She comes down and faces away from him so he can hook her bra with his trembling hands.

”Can you please explain what is going on?” He asks. Not a sentence he has to say often, mind you.

”Yes I can.” She says, turns around and crosses her arms across her chest. ”And you are gonna sit down, and you are gonna listen, and you will not question me, and you will believe every – single – word –” she steps closer to him with every word “– I – say. _Do you understand?_ ”

He gulps and nods. Why is this turning him on?

She glances down and notices the bulge in his trousers and rolls her eyes. ”I liked you more as a woman.” She says and holds out her hand expectantly. “Please magic me a bathrobe and then I’ll begin.”

”Wo–, woman? Magic you – _magic_ you a bathrobe?”

”Thank you.” She says grabbing the bathrobe from him and wrapping it around herself. ”Now, I know this is going to be hard for you, but shut your big mouth and listen.” 

"I'm not saying anything!" He whines.

She ignores him and sits down on the bed. “We are, unfortunately, against all odds and wishes, trapped inside your dirty, little mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, leave kudos if you liked it and let me know what you think in the comments! 
> 
> I've drafted out the story and will be posting a chapter once / twice a week. Hope you enjoy!!! xoxo


	2. The First Moments of Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna wakes in a new place with a very lovesick, snuggly Doctor and starts figuring out what the hell is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folx, we get to the story. I gotta say at this point that although the premise sounds all like fun and games, this story, by heart, is a sad one, especially towards the end. So if you're not into that, you have be warned and can stop reading. But there's also fun times, and sexy times, and adventure times, and a happy ending (mostly) and then... well yeah, sad times and angst.

It doesn’t feel that strange really, not more strange than being thrown around in the TARDIS when they dive into another place and time entirely, or more strange than waking up in a bed on a foreign planet after it turned around its axle in only 6 hours, making the night 3 hours long, or more strange than coming back to Chiswick after traveling for several months only to find out in Wilf’s and her mother’s timeline it’s only been 3 minutes. The Doctor had been really concerned about altering Donna's timeline by having her be months older than she should, and the serious expression stayed on his face even when she tried to wave it off with a joke.

Anyway, definitely not that strange. This is what it feels like: somebody tugging something under her navel, like a swift nudge behind her abdomen that thrusts her entire body out of its place and time and throws her somewhere else. It felt similar in the library when she was beamed in the data core when The Doctor tried to teleport her back to the TARDIS. She knows that feeling, and the fear creeps up faster than the sensation of an electric shock shooting through her body; it hits her head and all goes pitch black.

The first time it happens she is asleep and she thinks it’s a dream.

She wakes up slowly, not opening her eyes, but feeling the warm morning light in the room touching her cheek. Somehow it’s so comfortable that she forgets the nightmare she was having. She’s laying on a very soft bed, wrapped around blankets that are made of something that most definitely is not fabric, but it’s cozy nevertheless, and so is the warm body by her side.

A warm body? 

Her brain feels drowsy and clogged.

Lance?

No, it can’t be Lance. Of course not. Right?

A curiosity starts to awaken in her, but she still takes her time to wake up. It’s just _too bright._

_Where the hell is she?_

She forces her eyes open and is immediately blinded by the golden white light coming in the room through what seems like, an enormous window. When she tries to move she notices the person is wrapped tightly around her, preventing her from getting up. A slight panic starts to creep in – she can’t see, she can’t move, and she doesn’t know where she is!

 _Okay, calm down._ She still has her other senses. It smells foreign, but there’s something familiar in the air as well. She can hear a soft snoring. She feels around with her hand and realizes she’s laying on her side, and there’s a hand wrapped around her middle and a warm body right behind. She tries to wiggle and – oh...

She feels an erection against her bottom. It’s a bloke. It’s, fuck, it’s – and then it dawns on her – it has to be…

She turns around and sees The Doctor’s face. He’s completely sound asleep, his mouth hanging slightly open, eyes softly closed and moving around under his eyelids. He’s dreaming.

The light hits him from behind and she’s so close – she can see his dark eyelashes illuminated by the light and somehow, for a moment, that makes her feel so tender.

He looks so vulnerable.

Then her brain catches up and she jerks up and a sleepy whine escapes The Doctor’s lips when the warm body leaves his embrace.

Her eyes have now caught up with the light and she can see the room. It’s big and beautiful and _fancy_. Not a place they’d come to. A big queen size bed, brown maple wood panels, and plants. A lot of plants. Alien plants. She looks the other way and sees the window and her breath gets caught up because _goddamn_ , isn’t that just breathtaking.

There’s a huge hot tub by the window, filled with clear blue liquid, and the view, well, it’s something else; a snowy, glistening, icy landscape, not too different from The Planet of the Ood, mountains and frozen lakes, topped with a horizon full of – that can’t be! – enormous planets so close by it looks like they’re falling in on them. 

Without noticing she has walked to the window and is staring out admiring the view, touching the thick glass separating her from this world. Something feels off. It’s like her feet aren’t touching the ground. It’s like there isn’t enough sounds. It’s like – 

”Good morning.” He says. 

She jumps a little and turns around fast to face him. He’s still under the blankets, staring at her intensively with pudgy sleep-eyes, smiling. 

She suddenly gets aware that she’s only wearing a very thin, short, deep cut nightgown. _What the ––_

She tugs down on the hem trying to cover more of her legs and blushes slightly. She feels his gaze linger on her cleavage.

”Care to explain what the hell this is?” She says gesturing around them, and then pointing at her own outfit. It comes out more snappy than she’s intended. 

”Uhh…” He glances around, scratching his neck.

She remembers the feeling of hardness against her backside just a few minutes earlier and blushes more, then turns around to stare out the window to give him some room.

He’s getting up, padding behind her, and before she realizes, he’s wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck.

“Oi!!!” She jerks off, turns around and pushes him away. “What the hell, Timeboy?”

He looks at her, confused, pouting. “What is it, Donna?”

“No, you answer that question! Why are you acting like we are a couple?”

“Well, not a couple necessarily, but –” He reaches a hand to touch her arm. “Mates, right?”

She’s eyeing him suspiciously. “Do you know where we are? And why does it look like Jupiter’s falling on us?"

“Hmm, let’s see.” He glances around, and seems to notice the view and the planets for the first time. “Well, isn’t that something! That’s _definitely_ not Jupiter.” He seems to forget Donna’s first question, and instead turns to stare out the window. “Beautiful, that is!”

He pulls Donna next to him by her waist.

“Hands!” She yelps and pushes him away once more. She growls silently, mad at herself at how nice it feels to have him touch her.

He seems really confused this time. He stares at her, then at the view. “I think it’s time for a bath!”

Then, right there at his words, it happens again. The almost violent tug in her lower belly and the electricity and it hits her head and all goes pitch black before – 

They are sitting in the bathtub. Naked.

She screams. Actually _screams_ , and does this weird motion of starting to get up but deciding the water is a better cover after all, and ends up slipping under the water herself, splashing a generous amount on the Doctor.

“Donna!” He gasps and tries to help her get up, which amounts to her violently fighting his hands off her skin and kicking him to keep him on his side of the tub.

She grips the edges of the tub, pulling herself to a sitting position again she spits out water from her mouth. He stares at her, eyes wide. 

“ _Close your eyes!_ ” She growls through her teeth. 

He is smart enough to obey instantly. She takes a look at the room. “Where are the towels?” 

The water, if that is in fact what it is, feels curious to her skin. Kind of like liquid air, not touching her, but still feeling wet.

“Towels?” He says, and right away she notices there’s a pile of towels right next to the tub.

“Donna, what are you doing?” 

“You keep your eyes closed, Sunshine.” 

She gets up from the tub, grabs a towel and wraps herself around it. Okay, think.

“Doctor, I need you to listen to me carefully." 

“I’m listening.”

“No, really listen. I am dead serious and I think we are in life danger. Do you understand?”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“ _No!_ You are not listening!”

“Sorry. I’m listening. Life danger, go on.”

He looks quite small there, in the bathtub, eyes closed, a confused, oblivious look on his face. She sighs. When did she become his babysitter?

“Doctor, I need you to think, really think, and answer these questions to me. Can you do that?”

“Yep.”

“Where are we and how did we get here?”

He’s silent for a moment. “Uh, I don’t know?”

“Where were we before we got here? Do you remember anything?” 

His expression gets serious all of a sudden. “No, I don’t. I have no clue.” 

“Where is the TARDIS?” 

His eyes snap open and he turns his head fast to look at her. Apparently a mention of his ship has turned some clog in his head. His face has gotten pale all of a sudden. He jumps up from the bath, and she squeaks a little, closing her eyes while he quickly wraps the towel around his waist. 

He comes by her side. “Okay, where is the TARDIS?” 

Donna rolls her eyes. 

He starts roaming around the room studying it’s every corner; touching the walls, bending over to look under the bed. 

“Oh right, I had forgotten that we parked the TARDIS _under the bed!_ ” 

He ignores her, lays down on the floor and and licks it, smacking his tongue. She sneers, but can't help staring at his naked back a little bit. Laying on the floor flat on his stomach he turns to look at her very seriously. 

”Where’s my sonic screwdriver?” 

”How would I know?” 

“Why does the floor taste sweet?” 

_“How would I know?_ ” 

”Have you been up long?” 

”I woke up maybe three minutes before you.” 

”And you didn’t do anything?” He grunts, still laying on the floor. 

”What is this? The towel interrogation?” She snaps. 

"So you didn't do anything?"

" _DO WHAT?_ "

”I don’t know, like, uh, poison me or... something?” 

Her glare is enough to shut him up. 

”Right. Uh, okay.” 

He gets up and starts dressing himself. 

“Wait a moment there, where did you get your clothes?” 

“Right here.” He points at the bed. She looks at the bed, where the clothes, most definitely, were not a moment earlier. She looks at him. 

“And how about my clothes?” 

He points at the bed, where they have suddenly appeared. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Doctor, my clothes were not there a moment earlier.” 

He looks at the bed. “Weren’t they?” 

“Are you daft?” She rushes to the bed and grabs her clothes – simple trousers and a blouse, knickers, socks and a bra. “And these are not my clothes.” 

He comes closer. “Of course they are.” 

She glares at him furiously. “ _No, they are not!_ Have you consider I might know?” 

He just stares. “But they look like your clothes.” He grabs her bra. “Even the bra is your cup-size, look!” 

She snatches it back from him quickly. “How in the name of _GOD_ would you know what my cup-size is?!” 

“I have a telepathic connection with the TARDIS, remember?" 

"And...?"

"And she happens to make clothes for you, and repair the ones that get destroyed on our trips." 

She snorts. “That doesn't even remotely explain why you'd have a conversation about my size with her.” 

“Like I’d dare – Donna you're a _perfectly_ nice – Oh, just put them on, will you!” 

“Turn around.” 

He takes a last look at her only towel-clad body, lingering his gaze on her shoulders and collarbones before turning around. She squints her eyes at him and puts on the clothes, wrapping the towel around her hair when she’s finished. They do fit perfectly. He turns around and lifts up an I-told-you-so eyebrow. 

“Still not my clothes.” She exclaims while walking to the bed and sitting down. He comes and sits by her side and stares out the window, studying the landscape, scratching the back of his neck, thinking. 

”What’s the last thing you remember?” He finally asks. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” She feels the fear suddenly pressing on her chest. ”It feels like… My life’s slipped away. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. ” 

He puts a comforting hand on her thigh, and she tries not to like the touch. She really does. 

He frowns. ”I remember… Well, I remember you. I know you, Donna.” 

”Well, that’s a start, Spaceman." 

He looks at her, a small smile on his face and she feels a little better. 

Then, oh no, _hell no, no, no, no_ – the tug, the electricity. It hits her head and all goes pitch black before – 


	3. Slow Disco, Slow Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song I imagine playing in the background when Donna hears the "gorgeous song", if you want to get into the feeling I had for this scene in my head...
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5YAfv9a4Wo
> 
> And, just as a further reference, the Doctor's outfit is inspired by a particular outfit he's wearing in Fright Night...
> 
> And Donna's outfit is, obviously, inspired by the suit Beatrice wears in Much Ado.

She's gaping at him in disbelief.

No. Freaking. Way.

She tried to take in her surroundings, but she felt dizzy and now her head is throbbing and it’s like everything’s _spinning_. So instead, she stares at The Doctor.

He’s suspended in mid-air in this long leap, wearing only – the reason for her jaw drop – black, extremely tight leather pants with these boots and _O_ _h my God he's not wearing a shirt_...

His skin is tan, and his hair different; it’s longer and swiped carelessly back, hanging loosely on the sides and on his face and it's _sexy_. The Doctor, the skinny streak of alien papercuts, is looking hot as hell, and Donna is still gaping. He’s illuminated by colorful, moving lights all over and behind him in this glittering darkness.

It’s a disco. It’s like, exactly when she realizes that it’s a disco she also realizes there’s music; muted, demped, coming from somewhere far, but disco music nevertheless.

He starts falling closer to the, to the – she looks down – it’s not exactly a ground, but something soft under her feet that keeps her wobbling, the feeling of not quite touching the ground taken to the next level. She looks up to see him smoothly sweeping over to her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her around to do a pirouette. She yelps, and falls on his arms; the gravity is so different here she feels like she has no control over her body and movements.

“Why’d you stop dancing, babe?” He laughs.

He spins her around once, holds a hand on her waist while making her lean back on it and then pulls her close to him, his hand pressing hard against her back. She can’t help but flush – it feels so incredible to be held by him like that, against his bare chest, a tight grip, his hot breath on her face.

“You look incredible in this suit, babe.”

She glances down to take a look at what she’s wearing; it’s a black suit, with a white button-up and a black tie hanging loosely around her neck.

“Babe?” She asks, out of breath.

“Yeah?” He smiles.

“No you idiot, I’m not calling you babe.” She says, scolding herself for not having the strength to push him away. ”I’m asking why you are calling me that?”

He just laughs and jumps up, pulling her with him and for a moment she feels weightless, and he’s holding her hand and she's _flying,_ until he pulls her against him once more, his hands on her waist, gripping, and some absolutely gorgeous song is playing, it must be an alien language, and it all feels so good and she lets her mind go. For some time she can’t measure – minutes, hours, days? – they are suspended in mid-air together, and everything feels ethereal. The Doctor is close to her, his breathing on her face, eyes studying hers and her pulse quickens and she feels a heat spread in her lower belly as she thinks about how it would be to taste him.

She lets herself believe this world is real, and the life outside of it might just be trivial. A dream. A thought.

A fleeing fantasy. But they are falling down.

They fall down and her feet touch the… thing – she’ll just call it the ground – and it all comes back to her, the life she had traveling the stars with this beautiful being, and she looks around and sees the disco full of arbitrary, dancing, alien bodies, and nothing looks real and it scares her to death.

So, naturally, she smacks the Doctor hard across his face.

“Oi! What the hell, babe?”

“First, never call me babe again, and second...” She puts her hands on her hips, hating that she's sounding breathless. “... I want you to tell me exactly where we are.”

“What do you mean, love? It’s a disco!” He turns around and continues dancing, bouncing up and down on the ground level this time, swaying his hips, smiling goofily.

She stops for a moment, staring at his body and stomach and chest and arms and when he moves his hips and...

“I know it’s a goddamn disco!” She shouts at him, frustrated with both herself and him. “But how about the hotel room?”

He pouts a little. “Don’t tell me you want to leave already!”

She’s getting angry. “No! Jesus, I… Doctor, can you please concentrate! I am really getting scared!”

“Now, what could there possibly be here to be scared about?”

“Well you, for starters. You don’t seem to have any clue what’s going on, and that’s a first, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” He wiggles his eyebrows and bites on his lip. “I’m totally on top of my game, thank you very much.”

“I mean.” She says, forcing herself to stay calm when she actually suddenly wants to scream it to this useless man's face. “That two seconds ago we were in a hotel room, and now we seem to be at some intergalactic disco station dancing around with all sorts of aliens!”

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart.” He laughs, and comes close to her again, trying to take her to a dance.

“ _Sweetheart?_ Do your annoyingness-levels also rise up when the hotness levels do?" She groans. "By all means, take your time, Sunshine! It’s not like we’re on a foreign place, in a foreign time, without the TARDIS, with no clue on how we got here!”

He stops dancing. “The TARDIS?”

“Oh yeah, that’s what gets you out of this…” She wildly gestures around him “...timefever.”

He’s looking around them, taking in their surroundings, feeling around his pockets frantically.

“Donna, where’s my sonic screwdriver?”

“Oh no, you don’t.” She rolls her eyes so hard she is scared they’ll get stuck in her scalp.

“Do you remember where we parked her?” He asks.

“Doctor, I don’t think the TARDIS is here. I think somebody, somewhere, is messing with our heads. I mean..." She's suddenly aware of how hot her ears feel. "Look at what you are wearing!”

He looks down, but when he does he’s suddenly in his suit, and then he looks up, straight to Donna’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

Donna gawks at him. “Doctor, try picturing yourself in leather pants.”

“Are you – _Why?_ ”

“Just _do it._ ”

He glares at her for a moment, but her glare is getting so fiery he doesn’t dare to object, so he closes his eyes dutifully for a moment to picture it, and when he opens them and glances down, he’s wearing the same leather pants he had on before. It’s his turn to gawk.

“What?!” He yelps. “WHAT?”

“I think you can magic things around in this world.”

“Magic things around?”

“Yeah.”

"Why would I want to magic myself in these incredibly uncomfortable pants?"

"Well, I could see some benefits of it."

He raises an eyebrow.

Donna quickly continues. “Say, I really want a drink.”

He hands a drink to her.

“ _See!_ ” She says. “Did you see that?”

He looks at her drink, then at his own hand.

“Interesting.” But he doesn’t sound that interested.

“Doctor!” She tugs at his sleeve. “Look at me!”

He turns his head to meet her gaze.

“Now, concentrate. I know this is hard for you, and something is not right, but I need you to concentrate.”

He nods. “I’m concentrating.”

“Good.” She nods. “I think you are forgetting things in this world. Time and memory don’t work right here, am I right?”

He doesn’t answer.

“So I need you to trust me on this, okay?” Her voice is trembling a little. How the fuck did they get in this mess? And how is she supposed to get them out of it without The Doctor? “Listen to my voice. Try and think, very hard, where are we? Look around. Does this look at all familiar?”

He looks around. “Yes, I think I’ve been here before.”

“Okay, good! When? What happened?”

“I’ve visited this place... with my wife. Long, long time ago.”

Donna’s heart is beating faster now. “Why were you here?”

“We were celebrating our… anniversary. The fortieth.”

“The _fortieth anniversary?_ ” She spits out before she can stop herself. “Uh, never mind that, I sometimes forget you’re freaking 900. Where is this then? When is it?”

“It’s in the Andromeda galaxy, Spilthean star system. There’s an entire star system that's planets are like a giant bounce parks, because the ground is _splitthangi_ – basically, it’s not solid, and the gravity’s a nice 60% of the average gravity of a humanoid planet!” He’s starting to get excited. “We are there, it’s – yes! It’s the Starway disco, 57th century! Donna, yes, you’re brilliant! C’mon!”

He grabs her hand and they run, or do some movement that resembles running on the weird non-solid ground in 60% gravity.

She realizes the same song is still playing in the background, beautiful words she doesn’t understand.

“What’s this language, Doctor?” She asks when dodging a weird looking alien. “It’s so pretty.”

He listens for a while, pulling her behind her. “It’s Polish.”

Donna snorts. Right.

As they get further away from the people and the disco lights, something happens – she hears a slight pop, like a light bulb breaking. Donna glances behind her and notices that the colored lights have gone dark and the lights above are going out on by one. The darkness is chasing them.

“Doctor!” She screams. “What’s happening?”

He looks back. “Keep running!” He shouts. “There’s a door, see?”

And, rightly enough, there is a door, right ahead of them. The darkness is getting closer, but they move their legs forward, one ahead of another, speeding up, and – he yanks the door open and they rush through it into –

Complete, blinding, sparkling whiteness.

It’s nothing. Everything around them has disappeared, and they are once again suspended in mid-air. Donna tries not to panic, and she looks at The Doctor, who’s trying to look around, but it’s difficult to look around in a vacuum.

And then she feels it again, the starting of the tugging.

“Doctor! Oh no!” She tries to resist it this time, she really does, and the Doctor is gripping at her and looking at her, fear in his eyes for the first time, but it gets stronger and stronger and stronger and – “Doctor, remember me on the other side!”

She’s yanked from his grip and the electricity shoots through her body and it hits her head and all goes pitch black and the last thing she can hear is The Doctor’s scream that seems to echo through her head;

“Donnaaaaaaaaaaaa!”


	4. Fever Inside the Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very NSFW chapter here, you're welcome!

It’s mushy.

Her head.

It’s full of something, a continuous, static, rush.

Like white noise. She listens.

It’s water.

It feels good. It feels real.

She sighs.

She’s in a shower.

They are in the shower.

They are in the shower, snogging.

He’s got her pushed against the wall and he’s grinding against her, gripping her bottom with his other hand, the other wandering on her side, up her waist, gripping her shoulder, tracing along her neck, slipping into her wet hair and down again, tracing along her collarbone and chest and squeezing her breast, pinching a nipple. She gasps.

The water’s running on them, making her hair all wet and sticky. She’s whining, hands on his back, nails clawing, grabbing his bottom. He moans into the kiss, breathless, and she sighs, tasting his wet lips and tongue.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s a little bit of denial on her part, because why would she possibly worry about saving them from this world, if it is so goddamn nice and _hot_?

“I want to fuck you against this wall.” He whispers in her ear and then licks along it, and it makes her so hot and wet and she moans and pulls him to her lips by his neck and bites on his bottom lip. He moans in her mouth.

She feels his hardness push against her and suddenly she doesn’t want anything more in the world than to feel him inside her, filling her, stretching her… She traces her hand down his abdomen and down to his cock, feeling its length in her hand and then –

She snaps out of it, and, once again, shoves him away. She turns around and smacks her forehead against the wall several times, trying to steady her breathing. “What the _hell_ am I doing?”

“Why’d you stop?” He whines.

She’s unable to move for awhile, so she stands there, panting, letting the water run down her back, forehead resting against the wall, trying to think of unsexy things like lampshades and cleaning the toilet.

He traces feathery touches on her shoulders. “Donna… Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine, just…” But she can’t finish the sentence, because the fear is strangling her, it’s moved from her chest up her throat and a sob escapes her lips and then the fear and sorrow take over, they rush and fill her head and she’s crying, unable to stop or care.

“Donna, baby…” He stands there, not quite knowing what to do.

She weeps.

“Please tell me what’s going on.” He says quietly.

“Oh…I would, but I’m not… clever enough to figure it out by myself.” She sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I need you, and you’re not here.”

“I’m here, love.” He grips her shoulder gently. “Let’s get you out of the shower, dressed up, and then figure this out together with a warm cup of tea in your hand.”

The next thing she knows is the tug in her lower belly and the electricity and it hits her head and all goes pitch black before –

They’re sitting by a fireplace and she’s all wrapped up in blankets, a cup of steaming hot tea in her hand. He’s sitting next to her, holding her against his shoulder.

_At least there’s some advantage to the jumping around._

The tears have been washed off her face and she feels fresh and warm and cozy.

And scared.

It has settled against her chest again, making it difficult to breathe.

“Do you wanna share what’s wrong now, love?”

She turns to look at him and takes a moment to study him. Aside for a slight stubble on his face, he looks exactly right. Smooth skin, strong jaw, brown, deep, curious eyes. Fuzzy hair sticking up to every direction.

He’s completely oblivious. _But maybe that’s better?_

She takes a sip of the tea and thinks hard on how to proceed before opening her mouth.

“I’m scared I’ve lost you.”

“But Donna, I’m here.”

“I don’t know if you’re real.”

“Of course I’m real.

“How do you know?”

“I, uh…” He thinks. “Because I feel real. Because this feels real, you and me, here, together.”

“Nothing here feels strange to you? Not the fact that you just appeared here, from the fireplace, like –” She stops suddenly. “Do you feel like you only exist in certain moments, like this? Do you feel like the middle ones don’t exist?”

“No, of course not.”

“How did you get here?”

“I was in the shower, and then I came here.”

“Do you actually remember walking over here?”

He thinks. “No, not really. But I know I must’ve.”

“Exactly! Doctor, who runs this world?”

“What? Donna –”

“No, please.” She looks at him, dead serious, and he shuts up. “Please, just answer my questions. You know more than you think you do. Who’s in control here?”

“Me, of course.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, but really. Put that bigger than the universe sized ego aside for a moment, will you, I can’t –”

And then it dawns on her. Her eyes widen and all color disappears from her face.

“You do, don’t you? Oh my God.” She lets out a hollow laugh. “You _do_ control this world, you can make things appear _and_ disappear. You can take us anywhere. _Why_ didn’t I realize this before?”

“Uh, what?”

“No, don’t answer, just, shh, I’m thinking.” She gets up and starts pacing back and forth in front of the fire. “This feeling of being pulled around, I know it. It’s the same that I had when I got pulled in the cloud in the library, I – that’s why you can’t feel it, isn’t it! That’s why this all feels normal to you! Because this is your _dreams_. Or fantasies, or… whatever they – these are. I’m the one who doesn’t belong here!”

She stops and looks him dead in the eye. “We’re inside your head, Spaceman.” She can’t help but have a little smirk spread across her face. She’s figured it out!

He stares at her like she’s crazy. “Donna, are you okay? Are you running a fever? Come here…”

And, of course, she’s suddenly got chills running all over her body. “No, no, no!” She starts shuddering; her head is throbbing and she feels, actually _feels_ , her body temperature rise.

She tries to back up, but he gets up and puts a hand on her forehead. Her ears are ringing and she feels weak in her limbs.

“You are burning up, love. C’mon, I’ll take you –”

“No, you STOP IT, right away, you –!”

But, she can’t help it and there it comes again, the tug and the electricity and it hits her head and all goes pitch black before –

She’s laying in bed, trembling under the blankets, all stuffed in her head, snot running down her nose and head throbbing with fever. He’s sitting by her side, laying a cold rag on her forehead.

She tries to sit up, but doesn’t have the strength.

“Oh you are enjoying this, aren’t you, you sick little man.” She weakly whispers with a raspy voice.

“Baby, you are delirious…” He sighs, leaning in to pet her forehead.

“You make me healthy, right now!” She growls at him.

“Healthy? Babe, if I knew how to make you –”

But it’s enough. It’s enough, him just saying the word, imagining it. Her temperature goes down and her head clears out.

“Stop. Freaking. Calling me _babe!_ ” She sits up and rips the blankets away, glaring at him bitterly. “How the hell do I get you to think things that get us out?”

Once again, he stares at her, confused, oblivious. She sighs.

And then she’s ripped away from him. The electricity, the fear, it hits her head and all goes pitch black before –


	5. Donna Surrenders

At some point she loses count on how many times she’s been pulled around in this crazy world of Timeboy fantasies.

They are walking on a beach somewhere on a foreign world, and she’s wearing this ridiculous silky, flowy gown only he could’ve imagined her to wear. The wind is blowing and the flowy material is clinging to her body and getting all messed up with her legs.

This time, she’s too tired to even be angry.

Very angry, anyway. “Can I have that black suit back, please, I liked it.” She whines.

“Which suit?”

“The one you had me wear at the disco.”

He still looks confused, but nevertheless notices himself handing over a suit to her.

“I _had you wear_?”

“Thanks.” She grabs it, and starts to pull it on immediately while walking, stumbling a little while holding the blouse and jacket under her elbow and pulling on the trousers.

“It’s extremely, bleedin’ hot here, Donna.”

She stops walking and turns over to him before the temperature has time to start rising. “No, it’s not.” She grits through her teeth. “It’s a perfectly nice autumn evening, excellent weather for this suit. Isn’t it?”

He looks around, and funnily enough, the trees by the beach have started to go yellow.

She pulls the dress over her head, puts on the blouse and the jacket, starting to fasten the tie. “Oh, I know, I think it’s also sunset.”

She looks around and sees the beautiful light of the autumn sunset hit the waves. Apparently it’s enough to make him think about the change, and it happens.

“You look incredible in this suit, babe.”

“I know. And don’t call me that.”

She’s exhausted.

She’s simply out of energy. Out of energy to try more, to try to convince this manbaby of a Doctor about the real matter of things. About the real him.

They walk on and she has to admit that it's peculiarly hot for an autumn day.

She stubbornly keeps her suit on.

* * *

She’s started to call them settings.

It's definitely getting warmer in this world.

Warmer by each setting.

She tries to ignore it and sometimes, when she's really scared, she tires to talk to him.

But he doesn't listen, and she gives up, again and again, and again.

* * *

When she’s sprawled across a flowery field of screaming rainbow colours, watching the Doctor laying on the ground, snogging with _another Donna_ , she loses it for a little while.

But not in a bad way, more in the ‘this is so absolutely ludicrous that there’s nothing else to do than to roll around in the grass and flowers howling, and laugh until you cry’ – way.

When she’s done and the silent tears of laughter are no longer streaming down her face she rolls over to her stomach and looks at them. They’ve stopped in the middle of the shag to stare at her, The Doctor on top of the other Donna, both of their pants halfway down their legs. Donna almost loses it again, that’s how funny they look, but their examining stares borderlining on curiosity and being irritated make her calm down a little.

She pops herself up to lean on her elbows. “Answer me this, _Timeboey_.” She draws out the ‘oey’ and lifts up her eyebrow. “All the possible shags in the universe, and it’s always good ol' Donna. You really fancy me, don’t you?”

“I thought that much was obvious.”

 _Well, it is really, yes, in this setting._ “I’d like that written and signed so I can use it against you when we get out of this, thanks.”

“Care to join in?” The other Donna asks.

She almost chokes on her breath.

“You’re very pretty.” She says.

Donna doesn’t know what to say, and well, that might be a first.

* * *

Sometimes it’s absolutely, magnificently beautiful, and she remembers who’s dreamt up this world, but all it makes her anymore, is sad.

She’s taken to wear her suit everywhere now, no matter the weather. A stubborn insistence that the heat doesn't bother her.

They take a glass lift, hanging on air, down in a rainforest during night on a planet where plants are a bright purplish red. They descend from the heavens and she can see stars in every direction, reaching across the sky to the mountain horizon. When they get lower, the plush leaves press against the glass of the lift, leaving water drops running down all over them. She presses her cheek against the cool glass and listens to the ruffle, trying to feel the water.

She’s thirsty, but too tired to ask him for water, or for making her less thirsty. Besides, last time she did that the water didn't satisfy her thirst.

When they come down on the surface, he runs out like a little boy and then turns around to look at her, grinning. She leans against the glass door frame, taking in her surroundings. There’s a full moon up high, casting a hollow, beautiful, dead light on a black, black pool of water, surrounded by high, thick trees and plants. A thin waterfall falls on some rocks on one side, but it doesn’t touch the pool directly so the water lays dead still.

“A moon drenched pool!” He squeals to her. She smiles weakly, and walks towards the pool. The air is so thick with humidity she can almost bite into it. He’s already pulling off his clothes, ready to go for a swim. She kneels by the pool and leans in to take up some water for a drink, but stops seeing her reflection on the surface.

She doesn’t look real.

She’s a shadow of her real self – a smooth, white, flush face, not reflecting the real state of mind she’s in. Only in her eyes can she see the exhaustion. She leans in, hovers a hand upon her reflection and then touches it. When her finger breaks the surface of the water, the entire pool surface reaches out in small waves.

The Doctor jumps in the water causing the water splash on Donna. He dives under, surfacing where she is, looking up, grinning, offering a hand to pull her in, and... he looks really beautiful. She takes off her clothes, and climbs in, and surrenders.

It's nice and it's at least a little cooler than the air and it clears up her mind. A little. They swim together to the other side, near the waterfall, and he places her on the rocks, half in the water still, and climbs on top of her and this time she wants to let him take her.

The rocks are too smooth against her back. It feels _fake_ but she doesn't care, because when he kisses her she forgets that it's difficult to breathe and when she finally feels him inside her she forgets that she was afraid. 

So she wraps her legs around him and pulls him as close as she can and he rocks into her and even though they are still in the water, somehow the surface is clear and there is no movement. Donna closes her eyes – she doesn't want to see it – she doesn't want to be reminded that it's not real, and she concentrates on the pleasure spreading in her body and she pushes him down and he kisses her breasts and belly and settles between her thighs.

When she leans back on the rocks drops from the waterfall drip on her face.

It feels like a dream orgasm. The kind that feels amazing, but leaves you empty, because nobody really touched you, because it was a dream.

Only this time, she doesn't wake up.

She hopes he will touch her like this when they do wake up.

If they ever wake up.

Afterwards they lay there in the water, floating, looking at the incredible, enormous moon and she takes some solace in the fact that, even if she’s stuck here, a brilliant, beautiful mind has dreamt up this world.

* * *

Her head has gotten heavy lately, and it feels difficult to concentrate on anything.

It’s tiresome being pulled around dimensions against one’s will and at at some point even the funny, enjoyable things stop being funny and enjoyable.

When they sit at a dinner table in this fancy restaurant after she's drunk four glasses of water without them affecting her thirst, The Doctor clearly thinking he’s giving her the best date of her life, she simply lets her head fall down to rest on the table.

He reaches out to place his hand on top of hers and squeezes lightly.

It comforts her a little.

She wonders how long she’s been awake. Or asleep. Whatever it is.

She wonders what happens, if she’d just fall asleep here and let her mind go.

* * *

She has started to doubt herself.

Maybe this is the real world after all.

She remembers the conversation they had before, in front of the fireplace. She’d asked him; “How do you know you are real?”

She can’t answer that question herself anymore.

She can’t remember her previous life. She holds onto some snippets; her grandfather and how he’s proud of her for traveling the stars; Chiswick and her temp jobs, her boring, old, repetitive jobs that, at least, felt more real than this world; The Doctor, the brilliant beast that he was, ready to save the universe, ready to travel and know and shine, not this whiny excuse of a baby she’s stuck with now; the TARDIS and its safety, its shiny shimmering control panel and its flickering switches and lights, its low, soft, continuous humm…

It’s almost like she can hear the humm if she listens carefully.

She listens carefully.

Can she hear it? It’s impossible to tell what is real and what is not, but now that she thinks about it, it certainly feels like the spaceship’s humm is surrounding her somehow.

_Maybe, just maybe I’m actually in the TARDIS and just asleep. Safe and sound._

She holds onto that fantasy with all her life.

_I will wake up from this nightmare, someday._


	6. The TARDIS Dreams Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's hope, and things finally starting to make some sense!!! Light at the end of the tunnel, still far away folks, but it's there!
> 
> We get to Crowleyan genderqueer Doctor here as well! Exciting! YAY!

In this place, at this time, the hum is stronger.

They sit in some kitchen, candlelight and all, The Doctor bringing sizzling pans and pots of different wonderful smelling dishes and tasters to the table, humming to himself quietly.

It’s cozy. She feels a little less exhausted. Too warm, but less tired.

When he sits something catches her eye.

He looks different. Something’s happened to his face – it looks more feminine and smooth and the stubble is gone completely. His hair is long, and _ginger_ , and pulled up on this curly hair-do. It’s a really, really good look on him. Or –

“You look different.” She croaks out and clears her throat, not having talked for a long time.

He sweeps over and sets the last plate on the table – a sallad of some sort – and sits down facing her. “Do I?”

“Yeah, you look… pretty.”

“Thank you.” He – she? – smiles a little.

“I uhh… What pronoun should I use when thinking about you?”

“She is fine.”

“Right.” She can’t say she’s surprised, really.

“Take a taste of this, love.” She leans over the table, holding out a fork with a mischievous grin.

“What is it?”

Her grin widens. “I promise it’s amazing.”

She opens her mouth, and The Doctor sticks the fork in, carefully pulling it out when she closes her mouth around it. She stares at her with an expecting grin.

It is amazing. Something soft, but crunchy, melting on her tongue and filling her mouth. She can’t help but moan a little.

The Doctor laughs. “Right?”

“Well, it doesn’t taste real but s’pose we’re beyond caring about the absolutely pointless idea of reality. What is it?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know, but I can promise you this much: no alien sentient beings were killed for it.”

When she rolls her eyes she realizes she’s missed this; almost domestic, normal – if a little sexual – interaction with this useless man. Well, person. She makes a mental note to ask her about her gender if they wake up.

 _When_ they wake up.

They spend some time tasting different foods and drinks she’s made for her. Donna's laughing again, tiredly, cheek muscles hurting from the lack of their use, but still.

She likes this version of the Doctor – she’s not as clingy and pushy, she’s not clutching, hugging and gripping to her with every chance.

And well, honestly, she is also a tad bit prettier, and at that moment when Donna's sitting at the table and looking at the moron trying to convince her to taste both dinosaur egg and salt liquorice at the same time (“It generates this curious combo that’s almost tastes like moonstone!”), the colossal longing of the real Doctor hits her and she realizes that she’s in love with them, no matter the form. The feeling of it spreads from her belly and up her chest, tingling when it reaches her arms and hands and fingers and thighs and knees and feet and toes, and it takes away some of the paralyzing fear she’s been stunned by.

She absolutely refuses to taste the moonstone forkful.

She breathes in deep and just looks at her.

She’s moved on to babble on about how she that one time fixed the TARDIS’s re-entry capsule with only a broken magnetic shield thruster and duct tape.

It takes her a tad. The Doctor takes a huge bite of something that eerily looks like a giant wasp's eyeball.

“Wait a minute now, what did you just say?”

She tries to swallow, but the mouthful is too big and she just ends up trying to talk anyway, mouth full of wasp. “That she was so happy when I finally got the cooling water running again in the capsule walls, she buzzed so madly my entire bed was vibrating all night and I had to ––”

“Are you talking about the TARDIS?”

She looks at her, annoyed, and finally manages to swallow. “Are you even listening? Of course I’m talking about the TARDIS.”

“Doctor, can you get me to her?”

She looks at Donna like she’s daft.

“Donna, we are inside the TARDIS, right now.”

She jumps up, shocked, and spins around quickly to take a proper look at the kitchen they’re in.

Of course, it’s the TARDIS’s kitchen!

“You’ve got to be bloody _kidding me_!” She screams, joy exploding in her chest and it ignites the flame of hope, the idle weak flame that had almost died out during these… days? Hours? Years?

She rushes out of the room and runs into the hallway.

“Donna, what are you –– argh.” And so she runs behind her.

Donna blasts into the control room, The Doctor right at her heels.

She goes to the controls, touching them gently. “Oh you, how I’ve missed you...” She whispers to the ship and she answers with a low hum. She turns around to look at the Doctor, who’s staring at her, bewildered.

The joy flickering weak flame inside her almost dies out when she sees her.

She’s clueless, still. Even inside the TARDIS, she has no idea what’s going on.

“TARDIS, TARDIS, TARDIS!!!” She shouts at her. Nothing happens. She just stands there, unsure what to do or say.

Desperate, she runs to the door, and tugs it open. It’s white. It’s the same emptiness out there, even when they are in the TARDIS. She runs to The Doctor again, roughly gripping her shoulders, peering in her eyes.

“What’s different this time?! Tell me? Why are we in the TARDIS, and you still don’t remember that we’re in a dreamworld? Why doesn’t it trigger you anymore? What’s going on?”

When she doesn’t answer, she lets go of her and sinks to the floor, covering her face in her hands. “Please, just tell me what the hell is going on, I am _tired_ of trying to save us from this mess myself!”

It feels like she’s so close to finding something, something important, yet she has no way of actually getting there.

“Where’s your sonic screwdriver, huh?”

She looks at her. Absentmindedly, she starts going through her pockets.

She can’t find it. She looks at Donna, thinking, brows furrowing. She searches through her pockets, faster, panicking slightly.

“Where’s my sonic screwdriver, Donna?”

She stumbles up from the floor. “That’s my girl!!! YES! Exactly, where is it?”

The Doctor starts roaming around the consol room, searching for it, looking through the control panel, lifting up floor panels to peek under them. She pulls out a stethoscope and listens to the sound of the floor.

She runs up the stairs and looks at the room. “Donna, what the hell is going on?” She says with terror in her voice.

“You tell me. I’m all ears, Sunshine."

She comes back down, runs around the control panel once more and comes to Donna. “It’s different. The TARDIS is different. It’s missing things, and… quite frankly, nothing looks _right_.”

A victorious smile spreads on her face. “Yes, you _idiot_ , took you enough time! Not like I’ve been trying to _bloody_ tell you this for what feels like _flippin_ ’ _forever_!”

“It’s like... things aren’t real looking.”

Donna steps closer to her and grips her shoulders again. “It’s because we are inside your head.”

“We’re what?”

“Please, please…” She’s pleading, looking at her, trying to convince her with her eyes. “I am begging you, trust me. I have been stuck in this world with you _forever_. I get pulled around according to your wishes, and every time you take me somewhere new, you forget what’s happened before.”

The Doctor’s looking at Donna with that deadpan sincere seriousness. “Go on.”

“You can magic things around here. Everything changes according to your wish.” She just stares, eyebrows shooting up. “Have you noticed what you look like?”

She glances down, but doesn’t seem to notice anything different.

“Think about looking in the mirror.” Donna suggests.

She obeys right away, and a mirror appears in front of her. “No way!!!” She rushes to study the mirror from all sides, touching and smelling it. “This is _interesting_!” She yells looking her hands and then turns to take a look in the mirror.

“I’m _ginger_!” Her mouth drops and as she stares at her reflection. She turns to Donna. “I’ve always wanted to be ginger.”

She snorts. “Yes, absolutely dazzling, now can you please concentrate on getting us out of here?”

“Yes, absolutely yes.” She takes a last look in the mirror, ruffling her long hair and then jumping around to face Donna, smiling. “Now, let’s see…” She leans back to sit on the control panel and looks around, thinking hard. “If this is inside my head, and I can control this world, and you are also here, that means we must be stuck in some sort of a simulation that is hooked up to _my mind_ , generating a strong enough energy field for you to also get absorbed inside it. Our minds are… coupled.”

Donna can’t help a wide grin spreading on her face. Oh _God_ , how she’s missed _her_ Doctor.

“That means there’s two, no three… no four.” She stops to think for awhile. “No, definitely three options, of what’s going on. The first one is utterly impossible, so we might just ditch it, although…” She stops again scratching her neck. “Although, if we somehow ended on the bottom of GX1’s ocean, it might be possible, but we’re just going to assume we didn’t, because _even I_ would not be so insane to go _there_... So, the second option then –” She turns to look at Donna “ – you’re definitely not going to like the second option.”

“Does it involve us being most certainly dead?”

“Yep.”

“Yeeeah, you’re right, not my favorite one.”

“Yep, definitely skipping that option, which leaves us to the third one, being... that we, Donna Noble, have timefever.”

“Time – Timefever?”

“Yep. We’ve caught a bug.”

“Doctor, are you sure that’s a real thing? I have a memory of making a joke about you having timefever earlier at that disco, when you acted all... strangely.”

“That would be because, before of us getting stuck here, I, or somebody, but probably me, must’ve mentioned timefever to you and it popped here from your unconscious.”

“Alright then, am I getting this right now – you are saying that you and me, are laying on a bed somewhere, _having fever dreams_?”

“Well not on a bed necessarily, but probably on some sort of surface, yes, or I am, anyway. Although, I would assume me being telepathic has something to do with us having a shared world, so that means you’re probably lying close enough to me that we’re touching.”

“That is absolutely bonkers.”

“Yep.” She says like it’s a great thing.

“So how do we wake up?”

“Well, the thing is, we don’t. That’s what Timefever does. It makes time go all wobbley, and you go under and it prevents you from waking up. It gets you all caught up in your own head.”

“So we’re stuck here?”

A devious smirk spreads across her face. “Only we have you, Donna. I have you, inside _my head_. That’s a huge benefit." She stops and thinks. "Also frankly, quite terrifying.”

She sighs. “How’s that a huge benefit exactly?”

“Just think of how many times how you pulled me out of my timefever!”

“Oh.”

“I need you to think, Donna. Has there been anything, anything at all that could’ve been a sign of the outer world, some indicator of where we might be? Some constant, something you’ve seen... a taste, a smell, some sound?”

“Yes! A sound. The humming of the TARDIS. I think I’ve heard it on several places, if not all of them.”

“Brilliant! Well, that is both good and bad news. The good news being, we’re probably in the TARDIS. The bad news being, the infection has probably spread to her as well, because I can’t think of any other reason of why she wouldn’t have cured us already... I'm going to–”

But right then Donna pulls The Doctor against her by her neck and smacks her lips to hers, kissing her hard. The Doctor’s hands hang weakly by her sides before she slowly lifts them up to hold her at her waist. She deepens the kiss and they stand there, making out, tasting, licking, devouring each other, until Donna breaks the kiss.

"Right." Donna says.

"Right." The Doctor says. She stands there for awhile, smiling and panting, not quite knowing what to do, listening to the humm.

”Huh.” She says. “I know this sound. It’s coming from… THE MED BAY!” She shouts, grabs Donna’s hand and starts running towards the hallway, pulling her behind her.

They rush through two hallways, turning right and soon they’re standing in front of the door that leads to the ship’s clinic.

The Doctor turns to look at Donna by the door.

“What are you expecting to find from there?” Donna asks, her voice trembling a little.

“No idea.” She grins, but there’s a flicker of fear in her eyes. “Ready?”

She pushes down the handle.

Nothing happens. It’s locked. The Doctor closes her eyes and concentrates and soon the lock clicks open. She waits a second, taking a last look at Donna, then pulls down the handle again.

The door creaks open. Donna’s heart is beating hard on her chest. It’s a different kind of fear – the kind she gets when she’s saving the world with The Doctor. The kind that isn’t paralyzing.

They walk in and Donna’s breath gets caught in her throat and she freezes on her tracks. The Doctor yelps, and runs forward.

There are two bodies laying on the floor, limbs tangled, pale.

It’s their bodies. The Doctor is buzzing around them, shaking them, trying their foreheads with her own, peeking into their ears.

Donna’s legs betray her. She melts on the ground, sitting next her own body, looking at her pale, sick, what looks like a lifeless face. She touches her double's forehead. It's absolutely burning hot.

“What does it mean?” She whispers weakly.

“I… I generated this fantasy-TARDIS that’s funcion is to resemble the real world, and…” Her voice trails off.

“Are we dead?”

“No, no, we’re not. But we don’t have a lot of time, we have to ––”

She doesn’t have time to do anything. She feels the tug; it pulls her hard and she lunges forward, trying to grip The Doctor’s hands desperately, but the electricity hits her head and all goes pitch black before –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are y'all doing? Still hanging in there?


	7. Back to the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to where it all started in the Prologue, and onwards!
> 
> This chapter is a little longer and it's also where all the action happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a part where there's a song, and it really doesn't make sense unless you listen to this song with this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0sy7y54XAE
> 
> It's pretty obvious when it starts, because the lyrics are there and Donna starts hearing a song (not the lift music, mind you)
> 
> So please bear with me and listen to it when reading. :)
> 
> Thanks!! xoxo
> 
> Hope you enjoy (or maybe not enjoy in the literal sense of the word, because angst, but like, enjoy, you know)

They’re sitting on a bed, snogging, Donna on the Doctor’s lap. He’s lifting up his hands to her shoulders, beginning to slide down her bra from when she realizes where she is and jerks away.

”You gotta be fucking KIDDING ME!” She roars, standing on the bed, furiously glancing at him.

He looks at her with wide eyes. ”Err, what?”

”Oh no, not again, _not again_ , don’t tell me I’m stuck with _you_ again!”

He gets up quickly from the bed and stands up. ”Donna, I’m sorry, please can you tell me what I did wrong?”

She’s looks down to study what she’s wearing. ”By the name of –” She stares at him, furious. ”What is this thing you are having me wear? A lacy push-up bra? Stockings? A THONG! What is wrong with you, you sick bastard!”

* * *

When she’s calmed down and told him about everything for the forevereth time, adding the latest terrifying new information, he looks scared.

Really scared.

“You’re saying that I can completely control this world?”

“Yep.”

“Except for actually getting in the TARDIS? Or having my sonic screwdriver?”

“Yep.”

“And except for you being thrown around with a random me completely arbitrarily, without control?”

“Yep.”

They’re sitting on the bed next to each other, The Doctor absentmindedly stroking Donna’s thigh in a comforting manner.

He jumps up. “C’mon then, let’s go!”

“We are we going?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Inside my deepest mind.”

“Oh _God_ … I don’t want to know.” She mutters, smirking. 

He takes her hand. It's always nice to have him back.

She hopes it lasts until the end this time.

The tugging is different when she knows it’s going to happen and she’s consented to it and when she’s holding her best mate’s hand and they do it together. The electricity spreads through her body from the Doctor’s hand, it spills all over, hits her head and all goes pitch black before –

They’re standing hand in hand on the roof of an immensely high skyscraper. They’re on the edge, looking over the sky spreading in all directions above them.

“We’re above the clouds.” Donna gasps.

“Yep.”

“What is this place?”

“It’s a representation of my mind.”

“Right.” She looks around, trying to find landmarks, but it’s just sky and sky and sky all over. “Can I have my suit back now?”

“Your…–” but once again he notices himself handing her a suit.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to.”

She turns to him, quickly leans over and gives him a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He flushes.

“Alright then, more of that when we’re out of this.” Donna quickly says and starts walking towards a door that’s on the middle of the roof.

He grins, takes a last look at the horizon, and jogs after her.

* * *

They’ve been going down on a lift for what feels like at least an hour to Donna. Then again, time doesn’t really exist here, so it’s hard to tell. It’s a small, dimly lit box, with the most stupid lift music she’s ever heard, looping over and over the same tunes. The Doctor sat down almost right away, but Donna’s been stubbornly standing up, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering slightly.

She sighs, finally surrenders and sits down on the floor next to him, leaning her head back against the wall and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Is it just me or is it getting chilly here?”

“Feels comfy to me.” The Doctor smiles.

“Well, I’m freezing. And for your information, that’s the first time that’s happened in a long time. That can’t be good, can it? Timefever and all...”

His expression is serious. “It’s fine. We’ll get out of here soon. I promise.”

She smiles a little, inches closer to him and snuggles up to him, taking his arm and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Why do we have to start so high, anyway? Can’t you speed this up or something?”

“It’s a process of ascending. Playing with your unconscious is no joke, it’s a dangerous operation that has to be handled with the uttermost care. And, my mind happens to be the size of a universe.”

“Oh don’t start, I know your mind better than you would by now, and I’ll tell you, most of it is just a bunch of petty fantasies of a dirty little martian schoolboy.”

His ears turn red and he looks away. “Can we not talk about this now?”

“Oh, but what a better place to talk about this than being stuck in a lift going through the layers of your mind. Or do you have some other activities in mind, Timeboy?”

He’s about to open his mouth, but then the lift comes to an abrupt halt.

“Saved by his clever mind, once again, the lucky idiot.” Donna mutters.

He ignores her, bounces up from the floor, and goes to study the buttons, trying to press multiple of them. Nothing happens.

“We’re stuck.” He announces. “I don’t know wha – ahhhhh!”

The lift suddenly jerks downwards, throwing him to the ground, smashing onto Donna. Then it creaks with a heartstopping howl and starts sliding downwards. There’s a sound of something breaking and before they have time to do anything, they’re rocketing down with an alarming paste.

The Doctor is stumbling up from the floor, trying to steady himself. “What now, what now, what now?” He shouts.

Donna is in the corner, trying desperately to hold onto something. “You idiot, can’t you just control this and stop it!?”

“Oh, right!” He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut tight to concentrate.

It takes a moment, but the elevator starts slowing down. Slowly.

Very slowly.

He’s growling.

“I can’t… do it for long…” He grunts. “We’re too deep… I’m starting to, to, to lose control of… things. We’re moving to... uncharted territory… here.”

Donna shoots up to hold him steady, gripping his shoulders. “It’s okay, Spaceman – just… I’m here. Don’t talk.”

It calms him down a little, but the lift is still moving down too fast. They stand there, holding each other, balancing in the rapid swaying and bumping to the walls, swaying.

Holding on.

The lights start flickering again.

The Doctor is shaking. His face is growing paler by second, all blood disappearing from his head. His eyes start twirling around and he grips to Donna with his last strength.

“Doctor, hold on!!!”

But he can’t help it. His eyes fall back in towards his skull… And then, everything goes dark and the lift plummets down, down, down.

They fall over, Donna loses touch him as she’s is thrown against the wall, hitting her head on the reel with a pang and –

* * *

The first thing she can feel when she regains consciousness is the cold. Her head is _throbbing_ and it’s completely dark, and _cold_.

Her limbs are completely stiff and the floor feels freezing against her body. She feels around herself with her numb hands, calling his name, stumbling around in the darkness, but there’s no answer. It’s silent, completely, absolutely silent; even the music has broken off. She goes around, reaches to every corner, but the only thing her hands hit are the walls.

She’s alone in the lift, and terrifies her more than anything in this world has before.

For once she wishes she would be ripped away from this place to be with the Doctor. She hadn’t considered the pure horror of being alone in this place.

She tries to find comfort in the fact that at least she’s inside his mind. She’s not alone. But somehow, it doesn’t make her feel better.

So she lays on the floor, paralyzed, staring ahead.

_What if he’s dead? What happens to me, if I’m inside his mind when he dies?_

She sinks back to the floor and simply lets go of everything; the struggle, and hope.

* * *

He can’t see, hear, feel, smell, or taste anything.

It’s like he’s sunken into darkness, stuck in an endless pit of quicksand, falling downwards eternally.

He tries to move his body, but he’s not even sure if he’s got that left anymore.

What he has got left is his racing mind. It’s all he has got – his imagination. And oh yes, by the name Gallifrey’s twin suns, if he’s not gonna use it to get them out of this eternal darkness of his dishevelled mind.

He thinks.

He has to somehow signal to Donna he’s still there, if not concretely, just that he still exists.

He has not left her alone.

* * *

Donna’s dozed off into a cold, lethargic haze.

She’s still laying on the floor of the lift – at least she thinks so – she can’t feel her body so well anymore. Life seems like a trivial fantasy, so so so far away from her again that it seems utterly meaningless.

They say that your life flashes in front of your eyes before you die, but all Donna can feel is the distance of it all. Her memories have faded, and she's alone.

Her ears buzz.

There’s some high feedback sound, like somebody playing a guitar bleeding in an amplifier in an enormous concert hall and then… then it turns into a beginning of a song. At first she thinks the lift music has come back, but no… this sounds different.

Somebody starts singing. Donna lays there, listening.

_Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move,_  
_awake, but cannot open my eyes._  
_And the weight is crushing down on my lungs_  
_I know I can’t breathe,_  
_and hope someone will save me this time._  
_And your mother’s still calling you insane and high,_  
_swearing it’s different this time._  
_And you tell her to give in_  
_to the demons that possessed her_  
_and that God never blessed her_  
_insides._

“Doctor?” She whispers.

_Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things_  
_and crawl back into bed to dream of a time_  
_when your heart was open wide_  
_and you loved things just **because**._

_Like the sick and the dying…_

The song is igniting something in her; the weak flickering flame of hope that had died out.

_And sometimes when you’re on_  
_you’re really fucking on_  
_and your friends they sing along and they love you._  
_But the lows are so extreme_  
_that the good seems fucking cheap_  
_and it teases you for weeks in its absence._  
_But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through,_  
_you’ll fake it if you have to_  
_and you’ll show up to work with a smile._  
_And you’ll better and you’ll be smarter_  
_and more grown up and a better daughter_  
_or a son and a real good friend._  
_And you’ll be awake,_  
_you’ll be alert,_  
_you’ll be positive though it hurts_  
_and you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends._

She’s waking up, clutching onto the lyrics with everything she’s got left.

_You’ll be a real good listener,_  
_you’ll be honest,_  
_you’ll be brave,_  
_you’ll be handsome_  
_and you’ll be beautiful._  
_You’ll be **happy**._

The flame in her chest is starting to warm her body and she starts feeling herself again. Her muscles are aching, but at least they are there.

She sees something. Maybe it’s her eyes getting used to the darkness, maybe she’s imagining things, maybe it’s the song. She doesn’t care. It’s a vertical light. She lifts up her heavy head from the ground and realizes the light is horizontal, and it’s coming from under the lift floors. She rolls around, pushes herself up on her elbows, and starts dragging her body across the floor towards the light.

_Your ship may be coming in,_  
_you’re weak but not giving in_  
_to the cries and wails of the valley below._  
_And your ship may be coming in,_  
_you’re weak but not giving in_  
_and you’ll fight it,_  
_you’ll go out fighting all of them._

When she gets there, she touches around and feels the cold, cold metal of the lift doors. By supporting herself against it, she draws her body up and standing. She then pushes her fingers in the gap between the doors, and pulls with all she’s got.

They obey. The doors open, and she stumbles into the blinding, freezing light on the other side.

When her eyes get used to the light she realizes she’s inside some huge metallic structure. It’s formed around to have numerous corridors leading all over the place. The walls are high and it’s all covered in some sort of knobs, switches, levers, rotors, throttles...

It’s an enormous, humongous, absolutely colossal computer. Only, it's all covered in a layer of ice. The shimmering lights are blinking faintly from behind it. After awhile she realizes it’s not really that bright; her eyes were just coming from the bottom pit blackness of hell.

Her shivering is starting resemble an uncontrollable shake, teeth clattering against each other. She wraps her hands around herself and tries to think.

“Okay.” Her tongue feels heavy and numbed in her mouth. “Okay, I’m... just going to… Talk myself through this.”

She forces herself to start moving. “What next? That song was you... Spaceman, wasn’t it? Yeah, I know... it was. Why are you silent now? What do you want... me to do? Where do... you want me to go?”

There’s no answer. She instinctively picks a direction and starts walking the narrow corridor.

“At least you could magic... me a proper coat or... something.”

When she turns the first corner, there are winter overalls hanging on one of the levers. She almost screams in joy. He’s still somewhere around! She rushes over to them. The fabric is still warm, so it has to have just appeared there. She rips it down and quickly pulls over her suit.

“I did ask for a coat, but I... guess this’ll do.”

It’s warm and thick and fluffy and absolutely ridiculous and she immediately feels better wearing it.

Well, also because she knows now for sure she’s not alone.

She walks forward, still stiff, but with new energy. “Where to now, Doctor?”

It’s silent. Clearly he can’t answer with words.

“Okay. I’m in an enormous hall that looks like the insides of a humongous computer. I’m guessing it’s your mind. Or a representation of it, like you’d probably correct me. Oh, and it’s flippin’ freezing. It’s covered in an ice layer. That can’t be good, now can it?”

She turns a corner, and is faced with three possible directions. “Oh I see, wonderful. It’s also a labyrinth. Thanks a lot, Spaceman.” She looks in all directions that look exactly the same. She’s already lost and couldn’t go back to where she came from. “Could you maybe think of something that would make it even more difficult to me?”

But her snark doesn’t really have an edge to it, because really, for the first time in the eternity she’s been stuck here, she feels like she’s close to figuring out how to get them out.

“Okay, so you can communicate with sending things to me, which means, you can answer questions if I specify how you should answer them. Let’s see…”

She stands there, shivering slightly. _Think, think, think!_

”I’m guessing I have to find something from the centre of this labyrinth. Can you illuminate the route for me?”

The lights behind the ice start flickering faintly, but it’s not anything specific.

”Right… Not helpful. Do you even see me? If you see me, flash a green light, and if you don’t, flash a red one.”

A red light flashes. She almost jumps in excitement. ”Yes, yes, yes!!! I mean, definitely not good that you can’t see me, but at least we know you hear me.”

A green light flickers happily.

”So… you can’t see me, which means you can’t illuminate the way. Do you know where I’m supposed to go?”

A green light flashes, then changes to yellow. ”Is that a maybe?” A green light.

”Right. Okay, if there’s a way for me to find out where I should go by communicating with you, do green.”

It’s green. ”Brilliant. At least I don’t have to wander around blindly forever.”

A cold chill runs through her body. ”Okay spaceman, it’s getting colder and colder here, which I’m guessing means we don’t have much time.”

She paces back and forth, starting to get frustrated. The adrenaline is keeping her from getting paralyzed with fear. The lights flicker.

A song starts playing from the speakers: 'Hot N Cold'. ”What the hell, you know I hate Katy Perry? Stop immediately.”

The song stops.

”Bloody hell! You can’t see me, but you know where I need to go. You can magic stuff near me, however... How do I…”

She stops. ”Oh my God! I’m so stupid! Can’t you just imagine me in this place?”

A red light flickers.

”Why not???”

No answer. ”Arghhh!” She cries out in frustration, and just picks one way and starts walking along it. ”Whatever. I’m done freezing my ass standing still. Better chance of me accidentally finding it this way.”

She walks along and whenever she’s faces with a choice, she just picks the one that feels best. After maybe five minutes of walking she comes to a dead end.

”You’ve got to be _kidding me!_ ”

She turns back and starts walking to another direction. It’s getting colder and colder when she walks this hallway.

The song starts playing again, and this time, it starts looping one line, over and over again:

_Cause you're hot then you're cold –  
_ _Cause you're hot then you're cold –  
_ _Cause you're hot then you're cold –_  
_Cause you're hot then you're cold –  
_ _Cause you're hot then you're cold –_

Donna stops in her tracks. ”I know, _I know!_ The _temperature_!”

Green lights around her start flickering excitedly. ”Let me guess, I need to follow the coldness?”

Green.

”Well, goddammit. Alright then, let's freeze this girl properly!”

She starts walking, trying to feel the colder. Few times she goes wrong, but she notices it fast when it gets too comfortably warm.

”Scarf, please. A proper one. And gloves.”

She wraps it around her face and head so that only her eyes, nose and mouth are visible. The cold starts to be so violent that even the ridiculous overall can’t keep her warm. Her breath comes out as a fog that freezes on the scarf and she can’t close her eyes for a long time for the fear of them freezing shut. Her eyelashes are frozen. She must be getting close, or otherwise she might not just be able to go to this place.

Luckily, she’s right. After a left turn she comes to a clearing. Immediately her eyes are caught by a human sized lever in the middle of the otherwise deserted room. She shrieks excitedly and rushes over to it.

”Spaceman? I’m here. And I’m… looking at something that looks like... some sort of a lever. Let me guess I… have to pull the lever?”

Green.

”I ain’t useless after all.” She tries to joke, but her voice is weak and her teeth are clattering so hard at this point that it comes out bland.

She goes closer and touches it slightly with her gloved hand. The whole thing is covered with a thick layer of ice.

This is it. She’ll pull the switch, and they’ll wake up, and she’ll be away from this hell for good.

There’s no sentimentality. No last looks. No thinking. She just takes it and pushes her body against it to move it.

It doesn’t move a single inch.

She tries with all of her force, leaning into it, trying to push it with her weight.

Nothing happens.

She falls on the floor. ”What now?” She whispers.

”Can... you melt it?” She looks up to the high ceiling, almost expecting to see him there, looking back at her.

”Didn’t think so.”

She heavily climbs up to sit and looks at the lever for a while like she’s hoping it would just pull itself. ”Right.”

Then, shuddering, she strips off her gloves and places her shaking hands on the base of it, on top of the thick ice.

She almost cries out when the coldness shoots through her skin, but she swallows it and instead grimaces.

The pain is so severe she has to use all of her willpower not to pull away. Her hands get numb instantly, the pulsing pain freezing her fingers.

It’s too slow. It’s working, but the ice is thick and her hands are _too small._

Her movements are getting very slow and dazed, and she has to, absolutely, pull her hands away now or she’ll probably _die_.

She sits there awhile, too tired to cry, too tired to talk and then, with the decisiveness of only a person who has no choice, she starts stripping off her clothes. She takes off the scarf, and fights with the zipper for a good time before her frozen fingers agree to work with her.

The lights start flashing red. He's realized what she's doing. How?

She glances over. ”Is there another way?” She whispers.

For awhile, nothing. She waits. Then a single, shy flash of red.

She pulls the overalls off her shoulder, the cold crashing onto her like dipping in a frozen ice hole. She refuses to think about it, instead she continues taking off all her clothes on by one.

Then, shaking like a leaf in a storm, she curls her body around the switch, leaning into it.

"I love you, Spaceman."

She lays there, eyes closed, shaking, and doesn't see the vigorously blinking green light.

The ice starts to melt, slowly.

Slowly.

Cold.

Cold.

And the last thing she remembers is the feeling of strange warmth spreading through her body.


	8. Seven Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it peeps, last chapter! Hope you enjoyed this story. Please let me know what you think!!! xoxo
> 
> ps. You can find me on tumblr (alienevan) if you wanna drop in and give me some prompts or suggestion on what to write next!

The humm is strong.

She wakes up very, very, very slowly, letting her mind take its time when it wanders back to her body.

When she opens her eyes, she sees the dim halogen lights of the TARDIS medbay.

Her eyes are _heavy_ , and she must close them again after a short while. She quickly falls back under.

It’s like this for a long time – she doesn’t know how long. The meaning of time has really shifted in her head.

Sometimes she sees a shadow hovering over her and she can smell that it’s The Doctor and it makes her feel warm inside.

Sometimes she feels some touches, something wet on her forehead and her arms. Washing? Probably.

The humm of the TARDIS never leaves her, even in her dreamless, deep sleep.

One time when she opens her eyes, she has a sudden desire to move her body. It takes awhile for her to think of how to connect the impulse to the action. Slowly, she turns her neck to the left side and she sees The Doctor there, snoring on a bench, limbs hanging over the edges, a book fallen to the floor, his mouth hanging slightly open. He looks tired, but healthy, and she falls back under, content.

The next time she opens her eyes, she’s been turned over to her side and right there, close to her face is The Doctor, and he beams at her, and her face aches when she tries a weak smile and she sees how relief and love wash over his expression. She tries to hold the gaze, but her eyelids get too heavy and they flutter closed on their own.

She realizes she’s not cold anymore.

* * *

”Now. You tell me, now.” She says.

They are sitting in the TARDIS kitchen. It’s the first time he’s allowed her to leave the medbay, and if she’s honest, it did tax quite some of her energy to walk the short distance to the kitchen, but she’s keeping up a strong facade because _she needs information_. The Doctor has refused to tell her anything yet, insisting that she’s not well enough to receive it yet.

“ _Doctor_.”

He sighs.

She’s circling her spoon around in her tea, leaning on the wall for support. She hasn’t eaten anything solid yet after she’s woken up, and The Doctor is saying she should keep the tea diet for awhile, with some disgusting-tasting nutritional pills he’s feeding her to give her all essential vitamins and nutrition.

”Are you sure you –”

”Yes! _God_ , you make me feel like there’s something _terrible_ coming.”

His expression is very serious. He looks so tired. And old.

”Okay, even if it’s terrible, I want to know now. It can’t possibly be worse than being stuck in that… place. I’ve been in the dark for too long and I can’t stand you keeping this from me any longer.”

”That’s the thing, Donna. It has been _long_. Very, very long.”

Her heart skips a beat. She swallows. ”How long?”

”It’s been seven years.”

She gasps. ”Don’t you dare… I’m fortyseven???”

He looks at her, serious. Scared. “That’s what timefever does, it… traps you inside your own –, or in this case my mind, while it drains out your life. It feeds on your _time_.”

“But we’re in the TARDIS! Time doesn’t matter here, does it? We can just travel back to Earth, right? RIGHT?”

“Technically yes, but you are… older now.”

“ _What are you trying to say?_ ”

He hurries to respond. “That, no matter how _beautiful you still look_...” He puts a lot of emphasis on the words beautiful and still. “... People are going to notice something’s happened.”

“Mirror.” She says.

“I can’t _magic_ things around in reality!”

“GO GET ME ONE THEN.”

For a person who barely made it to the kitchen from the medbay without pausing to sit down and gather energy, she still manages to put a lot of effort in the yelling. He leaps up and vanishes, coming back with a hand mirror after a short while.

She grabs it, breathes in, and holds it in front of her.

It’s weird, mostly. Not scary, not… ugly. She’s just older. Her cheeks are so much narrower and there isn’t a lot of color on her face. She has dark shadows under her eyes and her lips are dry. She looks tired, and well, old. But still –

“Donna, you look beautiful.”

“Look, I know Spaceman, I’m just… curious.”

“Really though, it’s –”

“Oh for – why do you think I’m obsessed with being _beautiful_? Just let me get to know myself. It's not like I'm used to waking up with a different body every now and then.”

He leans in and looks at her curiously, clearly surprised at how well she’s taking it.

She puts the mirror down and studies his face. He also looks older... It’s the way he looks at her. Around his eyes.

“You’re right.” She says. “They’re going to notice. What should I do? Can I just… Go visit mom and gramps still in their timeline, at least let them know what’s happened?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Relief washes over her. It’s not bad, not bad at all.

“But you should tell them the truth. That you will visit them in different points in their timeline. And then you should return to seven years in the future.”

“Return? Do you mean –”

“No no no no!! NO, absolutely not. Just, that you should have a base in the part of your timeline where you belong, agewise, so that your looks don't raise too many questions. So that if you at some point absolutely have to go back for some time, it’s okay.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

“You need to rest first. It’s a long trip.”

* * *

Donna insists on going the next day, but The Doctor denies it. The day after he hasn’t got the heart to do it anymore, and even if he did, he’s pretty sure, by reading the fire in her eyes, that it doesn’t really matter if he agrees to it or not, she’ll do it anyway.

It’s a weird week. They visit Chiswick for four times each day, during Christmas, during the spring, during the summer and during Halloween. Donna insists on surprising them on Wilf’s birthday one year. Each time they go, she’s scared that _her_ gramps won’t be alive anymore, or that something terrible has happened.

Wilf understands right away, and he hugs Donna and they both cry and then they go watch the stars and Donna tells him everything.

Her mother is mad at first, of course, but when she sees the despair in Donna’s eyes even she shuts up. She still avoids hugging her daughter during the first Christmas visit, but when they come during the spring she leaps to her and squeezes her hard and cries and mutters something about how she doesn’t care if she looks old or not.

“I don’t look that old, Mom. I’m fortyseven.”

“Well, technically you are still forty, it's just that your body is fortyseven.” The Doctor says.

“Oh shut up.”

On the Halloween on the fourth year Wilf is sick and Donna’s heart skips what feels like five beats and she spends the entire time hunched over his bed, holding his hand and watching him sleep. She writes him a letter about how much she loves him. When they say goodbye she practically runs into the TARDIS and insists that they go back the next day, and what can the Doctor do but obey. That day is _long_. They visit him for every day for a week and when Wilf finally gets better Donna reluctantly agrees to stop and go to her bed and continue to a different time on the next day. She sleeps like a rock for twelve hours.

She doesn’t really talk much with The Doctor during this time, but he tags along. She tells him he doesn’t have to, and he says he knows.

* * *

After it’s done Donna sleeps for two days.

When she wakes up, she feels rested for the first time since she woke up from the coma.

She stretches on the bed, puts on her slippers and pads to the kitchen to make tea.

She walks around the TARDIS, looking for him, and finally finds him in the library, sitting in an armchair, deeply invested in reading a book.

When she knocks on the door to make herself seen, he looks up, takes off his glasses, and smiles.

“Good morning.”

“May I?”

He nods, and she pads in, placing the two mugs of tea on the counter next to him. She sits on the couch.

“How are you?” He asks, careful.

“I’m okay.” She says, and after awhile: “Can we talk?”

He nods.

She thinks for another long while, not sure what to say.

“Listen, Donna.” He says with a very quiet voice. “I want to say thank you. For saving my life. You were..." He sighs again. "I – I am so, so sorry.”

He stares at her with his eyes wide, and she has to look away.

“Yeah, me too.” She says with a lump in her throat, and then, attempting a smile. “You taught me well.”

“No, that was entirely on you." His voice sounds like it's about to break. "You clever, brilliant, beautiful woman.”

She tries to look at him again, but the lump in her throat grows and tears fill her eyes, and she has to look away again.

“I am so sorry about what you had to go through with me. That must’ve been…” His voice gets caught up in his throat again. Donna sniffs and the first tears run down her face. He lets his head drop down and he looks at the floor instead of Donna. “If there’s anything I can do to make this up for you, please let me know.”

“I can think of a few things.” She laughs a little through her tears.

He smiles, but it doesn’t stay long on his face.

“I mean, I guess there’s not that much you can do to help it. If a Spaceman's got a dirty mind, then a Spaceman's got a dirty mind.”

He doesn’t find it funny. "No, that's not what I mean. I was unable to save you. I was incapable. Without you, we would've –"

“Look, Doctor, I forgive you.”

He looks up to stare at her. “You do?”

She gets up from the couch and comes over to him. “Make some space.”

He quickly throws the book away, and Donna climbs on his lab, curling there and leaning her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes her tightly against him, and they stay there.

“Do you remember everything?” She asks quietly.

“Yeah. I do. I’m guessing since I was involved in more things I might even remember more than you.”

“You were?”

“You know how you were transported into these scenes? Well, I was already in the scenes before you got to your senses.”

“Are you saying that you actually had much more sex with me than I am even aware?”

“Well, technically it was a dream. We didn’t _really_ have sex.”

“Right. So, at what point exactly were you planning on telling me that you have sexy fantasies involving me in lacy lingerie?”

He grins a little now. “Never. Absolutely never, ever.”

She laughs.

They're silent for awhile. He squeezes her tighter against himself and Donna hears a silent sniff and feels a warm, wet cheek pressed against her neck.

* * *

That evening Donna walks into his room instead of her own. She’s had a lovely self-care day – without him for a change – taking a long bath, washing herself properly, giving herself a face mask and trying to get used to the older person staring back at her from the mirror.

He’s still in the shower, but she climbs under the blanket and curls to a comfortable position.

When he opens the bathroom door he stops in his tracks and smiles. He quickly changes into his pajamas and climbs onto the bed next to her. She nudges closer to him and he wraps his arms around her and they lay there holding each other for some time.

“Do you want to explain some things to me?” Donna finally asks.

“Uh… Yes.” He says.

“Are you scared?”

“No I’m… I’m fine.”

“You’re scared.”

“Okay, I’m scared.”

“Big, courageous Doctor, saving worlds from genocide... scared by bedroom talk."

He rolls his eyes. “Get to the point.”

“We can start with the easy things.” She says. “I just want to know what happened to you down there. Why did you disappear on me?”

“It was the timefever getting to me. I lost consciousness and control.”

“How can you lose consciousness in a dream when you’re unconscious in the first place?”

“Well, I wasn’t really unconscious, not truly ever, because of you. You kept me on the surface. The logic is similar to a lucid dream... one can be completely conscious in a dream, in a state of lucidity.”

“So that’s why I had to snap you out of it? I had to make you understand it’s a dream!”

“Yep.”

“But I still don’t understand why you disappeared completely in the end.”

He’s silent for awhile. “I… I don’t know how to say this to you. I was really close to death. I was… It was the final stage of the fever. The final stage is the most terrible one and it lasts the longest. I was beginning to lose even the last bits of touch to my own mind. I got stuck in endlessness. That’s where I would’ve stayed for the rest of my life if you wouldn't have pulled me out.” He smiles weakly.

“Oh my God.”

“Donna, we’re probably the first people in the history of the universe to survive timefever.”

“So there’s no cure, no treatment?”

“No. Not even in the most advanced hospitals in the universe. The only option is to wait for the timefever to drain you out completely.”

A shudder runs through Donna’s body and she nudges even closer to The Doctor. “Well, thank God to you being a touch telepath then!”

“And to you being the most stubborn person in the universe.” He grins.

She smacks him lightly on the arm. “I am not.”

“I’m saying it’s a good thing!”

She rolls her eyes. “How did we get there in the first place? Do you remember?”

“No. That’s the thing, I don’t. Clearly I had noticed something was wrong since I had attempted to get us to the medbay. But all too late.”

“Do you think somebody did it to us intentionally?”

“Probably.”

“Oh God. You have some terrible enemies.”

“But amazing friends.”

“Oh, after all of that, you’re calling me a friend still, are you?”

“Err… Spouses? Lovers?”

She squints her eyes at him.

“Friends with benefits? No? Fuckbuddies?”

Donna pushes away from him to look at him properly. “We haven’t even had sex!”

“Muses?”

“What’s the matter with you?!”

“Partners? Boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Oh that reminds me, Spaceman. Remember this nice little setting when you were a girl?”

“Oh I wasn’t a girl, I identified as a girl at that time. Or a woman.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I simply mean that I didn’t magically change into a girl, but I just had a different gender expression in this particular dream.”

“So… you’re not a man?”

“I am literally not a man, I am a Timelord.”

“But how does Timelord gender work?”

“Let’s just say it works fluidly.” He smiles.

“Right.” She bites her lip, thinking. “I liked your more feminine expression, you know.”

He smirks. “Did you, now?”

“I did, indeed.”

“Maybe something can be arranged for some special occasions then.”

Donna’s breath catches in her throat. “That would be nice.” She whimpers.

He looks at her, sudden hunger darkening his eyes.

She’s stares back at him, breathing hard. He raises his hand to touch her shoulder and run his fingers up her neck to her cheek.

She trembles from the touch. It’s light and feathery and _real._

He moves closer to her.

“Slow…” She whispers.

“Mmm…”

He understands.

It’s… strong. It’s real. It feels like touch is supposed to feel. Donna leans closer to him, slowly, until she can only see the blurry shivering of his eyelashes. Closer. Their lips are almost touching. His eyelashes are giving butterfly kisses to her cheek.

He moves his hand slowly down her body and Donna's entire awareness is on the touch of his fingers. They play with the hem of her pajamas, edging the top slightly up, slipping to touch her skin.

She sighs. It burns on her skin in the loveliest way, sending shivers all across her body.

She leans closer, finally pressing her lips against his, lightly.

It’s more of a touch of lips than a kiss. They breathe into each other’s mouths, moving slightly and feeling the light touch. He gently grips his fingers into the skin of her waist and she gasps again, lifting her hand to his neck and pulling him closer.

Carefully she deepens the kiss, moving her lips so that she’s sucking lightly on his lower lip. He’s breathing heavily, letting her lead it. She bites his lip and he gasps into her mouth.

“This is so lovely. “ Donna pants when she pulls away. “I can’t tell you how much I dreamt of this.”

“I’ve been thinking about it since Pompeii.”

“And you haven’t said anything!”

“I told you, I was never going to tell you.”

“Oh, Spaceman. I… I thought of this – from the middle of that chaos, thinking I'd never get away, I imagined how it would be to kiss you in real life.”

“Did it live up to your dreams?”

“I could’ve never imagined. Never. You’ve just made me understand what is reality is. When I kiss you I finally understand again.”

So, he grins and presses his lips against hers again. "Better continue then."

* * *

EPILOGUE:

One evening she appears in his bedroom when he’s already half dozed off after a long day of saving the world.

“Payback time, Timeboy.” She says, and throws a piece of lingerie on the bed.

He gawks at her. “I was sleeping.” He whines.

“I think it’s only fair that you wear exactly what I want for, let’s say, the next seven years might me a little excessive... but how about the next seven days?”

He starts to protest, but she then climbs up on the bed, unbuttons her pajamas and proceeds to climb on top of him to kiss him, and the protest is forever lost in his throat. Maybe it’s not too bad after all.


End file.
